


Chicken Noodle Soup and Fantasy Scooby Doo

by scarvesandjumpers



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angus is the moons best babysitter, Fluff, Found Family, Sickfic, this is so sugary my teeth are falling out as I post it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 11:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10489935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarvesandjumpers/pseuds/scarvesandjumpers
Summary: Taako should have known the moment he woke up that he was better off back in bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> love and kisses to hyattdeath for betaing for me

Taako should have known the moment he woke up that he was better off back in bed. His head was aching, filled with cotton in every possible orifice, his nose red and plugged and leaking, ears aching, body weak - fuck. Taako let out a weak, pathetic grumble, flopping onto his back and curling away from the bright, artificial sunlight that forced its way through the makeshift curtains he had pinned up on the windows neatly placed on either side of his bedroom. Warm white slatted light crept its way across Taako’s messy bedroom floor, revealing piles of discarded skirts and blouses, robes and capes, and the occasional wizardly hat or two.

Fuck that. The day Taako asked to be rudely confronted with the dumpster he lived in was the day he actually got off his ass and cleaned. Taako flipped over with a groan, dizzied by it - too fast, he moved too fast, fuck, he was laying down, why was the room spinning? - and turned his back to the rest of his bedroom to pout at his quilts and many, many pillows instead. He was sick, and that was, frankly, bullshit.

After a few more minutes spent drifting in and out of a miserable dose, Taako forced himself upright, whimpering pathetically as the rush of pressure assaulted him head on. He tripped his way out of bed and to the windows, tugging the blanket-curtains back over the glass and engulfing the room in the darkness he much preferred once more. Right. Food. He needed food, good, old fashioned comfort food.

Clad in a fuzzy green bath robe, hair in a hastily tied bun, and having only tripped on a-one pair of boots on his way out, thank you, Taako trudged out of his bedroom and through the slightly chaotic mutual living space that he and his compadres shared. Merle was napping on the sofa on his back - fuck, what time was it? - and Magnus was nowhere to be seen. Probably training or some shit. Taako sighed, sniffing loudly and making for the kitchen. Right. Food. Cooking. That was a thing he’d have to do. Shit. Suddenly exhausted, Taako flopped into one of the stools that was crowded around the cluttered island at the edge of the kitchen. Taako propped his elbows on the countertop and dropped his face into his hands, groaning inwardly and slumping. Fuck.

After spending the next few minutes wondering if he had the energy to slump back to his bedroom and hopefully sleep through the next few days, a careful little knock broke through the uncomfortable sound of his heavy, thick breathing. Taako frowned deeply. Who the fuck was that? Magnus had no reason to knock, he fucking lived there, and Carey and Killian usually just let themselves in….

“Oh, fucking shit.” Angus. Fuck. Magic lessons. Fuck.

The boy detective poked his head inside, spotting the Merle-shaped lump on the sofa right away and tip-toeing his way inside. Taako watched him start for his bedroom and turned in his seat to face him. “Agnes. Over here, dipshit,” he croaked. God, even turning himself around in his seat was exhausting. He felt a sheen of sweat bead up on his forehead and hastily wiped it away as Angus rushed over to him, bright, happy-go-lucky smile immediately fading as he saw the state his mentor was in.

“Oh, no, sir! You’re sick!”

“No shit, pumpkin. Keep your distance unless you want to get covered in snot.” Taako punctuated his claims with a loud, wet sniffle, and Angus made a face and took a half step to the side. Good kid. Taako turned to face the rest of the kitchen once more, and after a moment’s hesitation he sensed Angus clamber up into the neighboring stool. 

“It’s not serious, is it, sir? It just seems like a cold.” Taako nodded, squishing up his cheek on his palm and exhaling wetly onto the counter. God, he felt like shit. “Well. We can’t have a magic lesson when you’re feeling this poorly, Mr. Taako.”

“Again, no shit. You might as well just go back to your room or something, kid, I am out of commission until I can like, breathe again.” To his surprise, Angus’ worry only seemed to grow. “What?”

“But who will take care of you, sir?”

Taako snorted. A dribble of snot trailed unattractively down his upper lip, and he curled his hand around the cuff of his robe and wiped it away. “Puh-lease. Taako takes care of himself.”

Angus, it seemed, disagreed. “Well. What about Magnus? Or Merle?” He grimaced. “Well…. maybe not Merle, but - Magnus! Can’t he come take care of you.”

Taako let out a dry laugh - well, more of a cough - and shook his head. “Fuck no. You think I’m gonna let that dill weed see me like this? Hell no. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, Ango. I’ll just sequester myself in my room for a while. Eventually my own personal funk will grow stronger than my snot-infused blood and, after a brief battle of wills, I’ll be good as new again. Easy-peasy. Now fuck off so I can go… do that.”

As Taako started the laborious trial that was slipping out of his stool, Angus seemed to grow only more upset. “N-no!” He stuttered. Then he straightened up and repeated, in a more firm and confident tone, “No, Taako! That’s not healthy at all. You’ll just be sick for even longer if you hide away in your room. Let me help!”

“Not necessary.”

“It is!”

“Nope.”

“Let me help. Have you eaten yet?”

A loud growl cut in, and Taako glared at his belly. Fucking traitor. Angus gave him a smug little grin, and if he wasn’t so fucking disgusting Taako would have pinched it right off of his stupid chubby cheeks. Taako groaned and, as if it were a great inconvenience to him, gave in. “Fine. I suppose I could use something to snack on.” He pushed himself back into his stool and pretended not to be utterly charmed by the way Angus’s satisfied little grin grew even wider. Fucking cute-ass fucking kid. God damn it.

Taako watched Angus flit around their clean, well-lit kitchen, occasionally rubbing at his soggy, sore nose with the cuff of his robe, curious to see what the boy would (figuratively, not literally, never literally ) conjure up for him. It only took Angus two go-arounds to figure out where everything was. Clever kid. He pulled down a pot and its lid and a cutting board, then ducked into their fridge to hunt for… whatever he needed.

It didn’t take long for Taako to figure out what he was making him. Chicken noodle soup. Obviously - what else would his boy make for a sicky? It helped that Taako had only recently made it for him a few weeks ago when he was sick (he probably gave this to him, the little shit). Taako smiled, despite himself, as Angus carefully chopped and diced an onion, a carrot, and some celery. Now and then Taako gave him little prodding directions when it seemed he was lost, but honestly? He mostly had it on his own. Even when he was sick as shit he’d managed to listen to Taako’s flourishing, dramatic step-by-step sideshow explaining how he made the soup, it seemed.

Of course he did. He was his boy, Ango, the boy fucking detective, greatest one in all of Ferun and the moon.

Angus meticulously measured out cups of chicken broth and egg noodles, dumping everything into a pot with a satisfying splash! and dropping the pot onto the stove top with a loud clang (Taako grimaced, but didn’t comment. That stove would probably outlive him, anyways. It could take a beating). He turned up the heat and placed the lid on the pot, then hurried to clean everything up - Taako waved a dismissive hand and said, “Eh, forget that shit. Magnus will get it later. Boy’s gotta earn his keep.” Angus gave him a sheepish little smile - adorable turd - and both of them knew full well that he’d probably just clean it all up anyways when Taako inevitably passed out.

Angus herded Taako to his bedroom, tsking at the state of things - “No one likes a Judgey-Jason, Agnes, let me live my life how I like,” - And guided him in an organized flop onto his bed once more with a loud, blissful groan. Gods, yes. He grumbled as Angus ordered him to stay right there, already half asleep, and barely registered the door clicking shut and darkness filling the room.    
  
Sometime later Taako was gifted with the wonderful, wonderful smell of homemade chicken noodle soup and the sound of Angus’s hushed voice ordering someone  around- by the sound of his halfhearted protests, probably Merle. Taako cracked open crusty, tired eyes only to be greeted by the sight of their television precariously perching on top of a cleared off space on his cluttered dresser. 

Angus darted from the room for a moment then returned with a tray. “Okay,” he whispered to Merle. “Now bring in one of the tv-trays from the living room, please! Hurry, sir, this is heavy, I don’t want to drop it!” Merle grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Stupid fucking nap-ending fucking kid,” and stomped out of the room. He returned with one of the tv trays they’d bought from Fantasy Ikea forever ago and propped it up next to his bed. “Stupid elf better thank me for this,” he mumbled as he left the room. “Thank you, Mr. Merle!” Angus chirped, smiling brightly and carefully placing his tray on the little rickety table. 

“Did you wake him up just for that? You’ve got some  _ baaalls _ , Dango,” Taako sleepily murmured. Angus giggled, clambering up onto the bed and sitting next to Taako’s blanket-clad legs (when had he put the blanket on him? Fuck, man). He pulled the tv tray close to Taako’s bed so he could eat and flicked on the television. “Fuck yeah,” Taako sighed. “This is how we do it. I could get used to this.”

“What should we watch?” Angus asked. 

“Cartoons, my man, what else?” Angus grinned, and Taako didn’t comment when he immediately put on an old, grainy rerun of Fantasy Scooby Doo. Least surprising response. Still, a decent option. Taako forced himself upright, sinking against the wall and curling up in his blankets so he could properly eat without slopping everything all over himself. It wasn’t bad - bit too salty, but good enough. Definitely better than anything he could make in the state he was in. He demolished his soup in the space of two episodes, the warmth soothing his achy bones and making his eyes heavy with sleep which he stubbornly fought off as much as he could. It didn’t take long for Angus to notice, however. 

“Sir? Don’t you think you should be getting some sleep? You need your rest!” 

“Mm, nope. No rest for the wicked, Agnes.” His protests fell on deaf ears, however, as Angus carefully scooted over to him and maneuvered him into the nest of pillows he burrowed into every night for sleep - meditation - whatever. “This is stupid. I’m not tired,” he yawned, tiredly.

Angus’s satisfied, proud little smile was the last thing he saw before he fell into one of the best, most restful sleeps of his adult life. When he woke he felt better. 

Not perfect. But better.

 


End file.
